Tough love, Penelope's version
by Leigh59
Summary: Penelope goes and talks to Hotch sharing a long held secret and giving him some advice. Slight spoilers for "A place at the table"


_Just a one shot, I make no money and none of the characters belong to me. My many thanks to Wm George for her fantastic job fixing this with her beta skills._

She waited until everyone had left for the day, everyone that is but Rossi and Hotch. She saw the look on his face and sighed. She knew that look and what it meant.  
Stopping by the kitchenette she got two glasses filling them both with ice before she continued. Taking a deep breath she knocked on the open office door.

Hotch looked up and frowned just for a second. "Do you need something Penelope?"

"No not really, it's after hours and I was hoping I could talk to you as a friend, not as my boss." At his nod, she stepped further into his office.

He put his pen down and offered her a seat, but she shook her head. "No thank you. Look, I might be out of line here, in fact I know I'm out of line and if you want to send me to the tech department and get a new analyst I'll understand."

Hotch gave a faint smile at her tendency to ramble when nervous or upset. "Why don't you tell me what's on your mind."

"You know that my parents were killed by a drunk driver, but what you don't know is that the reason they were out that late at night was because I had broken curfew, again. They were out looking for me. A know-it-all pain in the ass teenager who thought she could do whatever she wanted. Just like any normal teenager. It took me a long time - almost fifteen years before I could stop blaming myself for their deaths. I couldn't help thinking that if I hadn't been breaking curfew they wouldn't have been looking for me. But you see it wasn't the first time that I had pulled that stunt, and they always looked for me, I was the only one still at home. My step brothers had moved out of their lives years before, not that they ever lived with us in the first place. Sorry, I know I'm rambling. What I'm trying to tell you that as much as I wanted to blame myself it wasn't my fault. The fault lay with the drunk driver all of it."

"What are you telling me this?"

"You get this look, your body language changes and a darkness comes over you, just small things and if you didn't know what to look for you'd miss it. It wasn't hard to put two and two together, the rest of the team they were busy with the case and I'm a busybody." She closes her eyes and exhales slowly. "Aaron, this team, the six of you are the only people in the whole world that give a shit about me one way or another. For purely selfish reasons I try to keep you all safe and drama free. You're all I've got. I just wanted you to remember that what happened, it's not your fault. It's all that sick bastard's doing and nothing you did or didn't do would have made any difference."

She placed the glasses on the table with two small bottles she pulled from her pocket, along with a piece of paper. "Your partner in crime should be here soon, have a drink on me."

She waited until Hotch read the note. "It's an adult daycare, your father-in-law's insurance and VA benefits will cover most of it, and they have a sliding scale fee as well. Ask for Siobhan Kelley, she's expecting your call. Like I said I put two and two together, it was easy. You'll like Siobhan she's a counselor, that's how I met her. Working with other families to help them deal with death and impending death. She'll help you and Jessica work out the best plans for later on."

Aaron stood. "Penelope," he began, only to be interrupted by his old friend.

"Something going on I can help with?" Dave asked as he entered the office.

She looked to her left and smiled slightly as she the expression of concern that graced Dave's handsome face.

"Just bringing my two favorite people a drink, on me, enjoy. Good night sirs, I'll hopefully see you again on Monday."

They watched as she left the office, closing the door behind her. "What was that all about?" Rossi picked up a bottle, opened it, and poured it into one of the glasses.

"Penelope's version of tough love - more like a gentle shove with both of her hands covered in soft woolen mittens." Hotchner accepted the glass of Scotch. "Your brand isn't it?" Hotch commented as he looked at the bottle on the desk.

"So it is, so it is. So what are you going to do?"

"What she advised. I think the tough love she gave me was harder on her than it was on me."


End file.
